Every day an old man pulls up in a van with a picture on the back of five young men, holding surfboards while looking tan and trim in swimming trunks--the kind Barbie's boyfriend, Ken, wore back when Barbie and Ken were first invented. Underneath the caption reads: "Boys of Summer, 1955."
He sits in the van all day with his window down, looking out at Doheny Point, possibly remembering the summer he and Moondoggie and the Big Kahuna fell all over themselves in an effort to impress Gidget (short for "girl midget"). Part of me thinks this is sad. Another part of me (and I'm very serious about this) thinks, dude. What could be more awesome than to hang at the beach all day, thinking about good times?
I have the sense he wants people to stop and ask him about those days. And maybe I will. But I'm almost afraid he'll tell me more than I want to know.